


Hands Up, Hands Tied

by RiseHigh



Series: The Reluctant Housemates [9]
Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Episode 1x07 Companion Piece, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiseHigh/pseuds/RiseHigh
Summary: But all that could wait.The Prince first.Then she would deal with the rest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As I try to process 1x07, I kept going back to Quill as she approached the classroom at the end of the episode. This is the result.
> 
> Title inspired (in some kind of inverted way) by the lyrics from 'Bad Girls' (blame the show): Hands up, hands tied // Don't go screaming if I blow you with a bang

Once she was back—actually back and not in some metaphysical version of the school—Quill was consumed with one thought: getting herself to her physics classroom.

She needed to see his face—see the fear in the eyes of the last Rhodian—as he realized that his control was gone and that she was a slave to him no more. What she would do after that, Quill honestly did not know. But retribution would be hers—of that she was certain. The details would reveal themselves in time. This was the first step in the battle that was to come.

But she was also exhausted. Overwhelmingly so.

Quill knew what had happened. She could still _feel_ what had happened: the nausea caused by that ridiculous reliquary, the pain of the arn the moment she began to believe, the horror of its removal, and the bliss when her fists smashed into it. Yet, there was so much—Dorothea, Ballon, _her goddess_ —that she was still not fully able to understand.

And there was that one thing she needed to process. Couldn’t process. Couldn’t even bring herself to fully acknowledge.

But all that could wait.

The Prince first.

Then she would deal with the rest.

* * *

The sound of voices greeted Quill as she made her way down the corridor. The voices were clearly panicked and, of course, were coming out of her classroom. Somehow the children had managed to endanger themselves without leaving detention, and as usual, she would have to save them. Yet another fight after everything she had done today.

A wave of dizziness washed over her at the thought.

Quill pressed her hand against the wall the keep herself upright. She closed her eyes for a moment and then forced them back open. A little dizziness wouldn’t stop her. Quill let her instincts take over. She assessed the threat and crept into the doorway to see the Prince on the floor being pulled into some kind of rock despite the others trying to hold onto him.

For a second, the din of voices faded and Quill heard silence—more than heard—felt the silence of nothing in her head.

Nothing forcing her to act.

This was her choice.

Quill raised her gun and fired. The rock shattered. The Prince was free.

And so was she.


End file.
